You were the last thing I saw
by twistedsister80
Summary: After that final episode, two section have gone missing and guess who is in the rescue party! The showdown between Molly and Captain James that we will probably never see.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show, TG does!**

 **Dedicated to a wonderful CJ/Molly fan group who have been there for fellow fans who are all feeling a bit lost and confused after the last episode.**

 **Huge thanks to Steph for reading, proofing and helping with the writers block in certain parts. Your help and support has been greatly appreciated! (It has been about five years since I have written anything so I am bit rusty!)**

 **I am a huge CJ/Molly fan, I know nothing about the army, PTSD, everything below is just something I had get out of my system. Call it creative licence!**

 **The idea for this came after the last episode, two section are missing, what if Molly was on the rescue team?**

 **Charles' POV**

There was nothing else they could do, no-where else left to run to. They had two options – be caught and killed or jump and die. Personally, he knew that when his time came he would rather go out on his terms, so when Lane advised that there was no way to get back he decided they should jump.

He couldn't say what everyone else was thinking as they jumped off the cliff and hurtled down into the dirty river water below, but for him, the fog that had been clouding his mind for as long as he could remember was starting to lift.

All he could see was her.

He hit the water with incredible force and as he went down he could hear the screams and yells of everyone else in the section, their voices were garbled and distorted. They didn't sound human, but he didn't care. He was enveloped in a swirling darkness that seemed to keep pushing him along further away from the noises of everyone else. Part of his brain was telling him to fight, fight to live, fight the current of the water and the everlasting darkness and fight for her. The other, foggier, part of his brain told him to stop. Death was the only suitable outcome for his current situation.

His parents, his wife, his son, they would all miss him and mourn him in death, but at least he would never have to admit his failings to them. See the look of disgust in their eyes. And he would never have to tell the love of his life just how much he had betrayed her.

He had no idea how much time had passed or how the hell he was still alive. He was out of the water now, lying in a small secluded sandy cove along the riverbed. He was finally alone, he could still hear voices but whether they were real or not he couldn't tell.

 _"Charlie!"_

 _"James!"_

 _"Elvis!"_

The sudden thumping noise jolted him and he looked around, why was Elvis lying there? Then he disappeared again. The thumping noise returned, and so did Elvis, only for him to disappear again. It kept on happening until he realised that the thumping noise was actually drops of rain landing on the rock beside him.

He started to laugh in anger, why was he still alive? Surely death was just around the corner. His best friend was dying in front of him, he relived the moment with Georgie crying and screaming as she tried to resuscitate him. His best friend was gone. By now the pain was crippling him, his leg, back and head were all throbbing. Blood was coming from somewhere, but he didn't care enough to check from where.

The constant thumping noise was now joined by gunfire. He wasn't sure whether it was nearby or a flashback. He was hovering between a state of consciousness and blacking out. Everything was going blurry again as he lay back on the ground staring at the dark night sky, remembering the most perfect night of his life.

 _It was a gorgeous summer's evening and Molly looked so beautiful that she took his breath away every time he looked at her. It was their wedding day and the reception was in full swing. Dave was currently leading half the guests around the ballroom in a very raucous congo. Despite Molly's reservations both sets of families got on as well as could be expected, even if Dave did call him a poncy bugger. Whatever that meant. His parents though – Nathaniel and Maggie had loved Molly from the beginning. His mother was still crying with happiness some six hours after the ceremony had finished and she was currently trying to convince Sam that it was well past his bedtime. It was then that he noticed Molly trying to escape the madness. She exited the ballroom via the French doors and into the beautiful walled gardens of the country estate, which were lit up with thousands of twinkling fairy lights._

 _She was sat on the stone steps not caring if she stained or creased the beautiful ivory cream sleeveless dress. Her long, dark hair which had been swept up for the day in a messy bun, was starting to come undone and he watched as she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. The sight made his heart swell. He didn't think it was possible to be more in love with her than he was right now. He made his way over to her and kissed the top of her head, as he sat down behind her, pulling her in between his legs and wrapping his arms around her waist protectively._

 _They had kissed and chatted about the day, about how smart Sam had looked in his suit, Elvis' hilarious and embarrassing best man speech and the cringeworthy moment when Molly's nan had grabbed Charles' grumpy uncle Richard and led him in an embarrassing Argentine tango, much to the amusement of everyone else. The sound of her laughter completed him. He could happily spend the rest of his life sitting on this spot with her in his arms._

 _They had sat there for what felt like hours kissing and talking about their future and the number of kids that they would have. They promised to always put each other first, before any tours and promotions, and even agreed that once Molly made Corporal that they would start their family._

The flashback was killing him more than the pain of the fall. How did he screw things up so badly? The thumping noise from before returned. A frown crossed his brow, he was back on those stone steps on their wedding day, but Elvis was lying dead on the step beside Molly. The blood was nearly touching the ivory of her dress.

He opened his eyes, the pain in his back was becoming unbearable and he was certain he couldn't move either of his legs. Now, Elvis was standing over him, his rifle pointed in his face.

 _"You stupid bastard,_ " Elvis all but snarled, the anger almost pouring out of him. Charles blinked and he was alone again. He stared into the sky and tried to remember when everything had gone to shit.

 _"I don't know whether to be pissed at you for losing the best thing that ever happened to you, or for sleeping with my girl,"_ Elvis spat.

 _"I promised you that I would look after her."_ Charles replied, as he found himself confronted by Elvis again, stood in front of him, with the gun still pointed at his face. The constant flashbacks were making his head spin and he was having a hard time distinguishing between reality and his imagination. He thought he might be dead. It would explain seeing Elvis, but on the periphery he could have sworn someone was calling his name.

" _Yeah which means checking she's ok and looking out for her. You fucked her while she wore my ring, some bloody friend you are"_ Elvis growled.

" _She needed someone to look after her,"_ Charles muttered, as he realised he was still alive and the shouting was getting louder. Elvis started to disappear from his vision. He needed to explain to his friend why he had done it. He reached for him, but instead of grabbing Elvis the only thing he felt was the cool metal of the small gun that he kept holstered in the leg of his trousers.

Gripping it tightly in his hand he slunk back down into the sandy bay. All he could do was wait. Wait to be rescued or wait to die. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift to the events of the last few days and how he'd ended up here, fucked, in the middle of the Bangladesh jungle.

 _Sleeping with Georgie was something that he had wanted and dreamed of doing for months, or so he thought Things with Molly were tough and there was no denying he'd been the cause of that, and he couldn't explain to Molly how he felt. But Georgie, well they'd gotten close on tour, she'd saved his life and he genuinely thought she could be someone who fully understood the grief he was going through. He thought she might be the piece of him that was missing, that she could heal him. It had been good but something was missing and it was only afterwards, when they were lying in bed and when the moonlight came in through the window and caught the diamond ring around Georgie's neck that he realised the magnitude of what he'd done. He had sex with someone who wasn't his wife and the shock of that hit him like a freight train. He wanted to be honest, but he just didn't know if it was with himself, God, Molly or Georgie. He quickly grabbed his clothes and did what could only be described as the walk of shame to the shower block, remembering a long-ago conversation with Molly about how everyone has at some point slept with someone they regret. Guilt was creeping up on him but he needed to bottle it and save that discussion for another time and carry on with the mission and the job he had to do. That was the most important thing. He could worry about his feelings later. In his haste he never noticed the Bangladeshi soldier who had witnessed his hasty retreat from the medic's arms._

Now as he lay on the sandy rocky cove in the middle of nowhere he could do nothing but think and remember how he fucked everything up.

He heard the voices again and was sure they were closer this time and not a figment of his imagination. He tried to sit up, the sweat pouring down his face, he couldn't see anyone, but that voice, surely, she couldn't be here. It had to be the damn hallucinations again.

After their last conversation he was sure there was no way she'd come and save his pathetic ass. It was likely the drugs gang he could hear searching for them and he was hallucinating. He wouldn't let them get to him first. He closed his eyes as his life flashed before him. He could see Elvis glaring at him, Molly crying on the rock and Sam shouting that he hated him.

Life would be better for everyone if I just pulled the trigger and put myself and them out of this misery, he thought.

He tightened the grip on his gun and pointed it towards him. He could hear Molly's voice again shouting at him not to do it, then someone wrenched the gun from his hands and he was being lifted up and carried onto a boat where two other people were waiting. One was talking down a radio, the other, a female with dark hair was trying to examine him. 'If only I could see her face' he thought. But his mind was distorting her and the hallucinations started again.

"Don't help me, let me die," he pleaded, as he was placed carefully on the bottom of the boat.

"Stay with me," the medic screamed, as he watched her reaching into her Bergen.

"No, I've failed her, I've failed everyone."

"No you haven't."

Whoever it was certainly sounded like Molly but he still couldn't see her features and his vision was hazy.

"Tell Molly I'm sorry," he sobbed. "I never meant it, I knew straight away I'd made a mistake. I shouldn't have done it…."

"You're delirious Charles." Came a male voice. "We are going to get you to a hospital and get you the help you need."

Charles looked to the man, fever and delirium had well and truly set in and he failed to recognise who was speaking to him. "I slept with the wrong woman and she will never forgive me. Let me die," he mumbled.

The female medic turned and looked at him with tears in her eyes "We need to get him out of here ASAP!"

As the boat sped away Molly sat for the rest of the journey, with tears spilling down her face as she listened to her husband repeating the same sentence over and over "I loved the wrong woman… let me die."

 **Molly's POV**.

It was typical weekend weather back in the UK. A damp, dark, wet and windy Saturday afternoon and Molly sighed as she received a text message from Rebecca telling her that Sam's rugby match had been cancelled due to the storm that was unleashing its fury outside. It meant, of course, that Sam would be staying at his mother's tonight and not with her. "Alone again," she sighed. As much as it pained her it was probably for the best. Sam kept asking her where his father was, and it was getting more difficult with each passing day.

Sam was now a bright, athletic twelve-year-old, who was old enough to understand that all was not right with his father and he'd grown protective of Molly when the fighting had started.

Molly replied to the text and set her phone on the counter, just as the doorbell rang. Walking down the hallway she half hoped Rebecca had changed her mind, but when she opened the door she was met with the face of her old boss and now head of the regiment Lt Colonel Roger Beck. Her blood ran cold. She knew instinctively that something had happened to Charles. Again. With everything that had happened over the last couple of years she dreaded each knock on the door.

"Sir?" Molly's voice broke and her eyes widened waiting for the inevitable.

"Relax Molly, nothing has happened and I'm off duty."

Molly breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door further. "Come in." She closed the door behind her and pointed towards the coat stand.

"Thank you," Beck replied, placing the damp raincoat on the hook. "I wanted to see how you were doing?" He said softly.

"You better come in and sit down then," Molly said leading him into the kitchen "Tea?"

"Please."

"I am going to get straight to the point Molly, has Charles been in contact?"

"Well, that depends on how you look at it." Molly sighed leaning against the kitchen counter. "I have rang and emailed every day, and he finally decided to answer my call last night."

"And?" Beck asked as he sat forward in the chair, his eyebrow arched.

"He wants to put our marriage out of its misery," Molly whispered, choking back a sob, as she instinctively started playing with her wedding ring on her third finger.

Beck sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. "Shit. I'm sorry Molly"

"I don't know what else to do." She said resigned.

"I thought things had improved after the incident in Belize?"

"They had. For a while," Molly replied as she started making the tea. "And then it was Elvis' birthday and he suddenly had to find Lane and make sure she was okay. That she wasn't in any danger. He admitted to having feelings for her." She said sadly.

"Molly, I don't know what to say," Beck sighed. "You and him, despite my initial reservations are perfect for each other, hell my daughter was flower girl at your wedding. I, i think what i am trying to say is i can see how you both fell in love. But for him to fall in love with a second medic…"

"Not to mention my friend and Elvis' on off fiancee?" Molly finished for him.

"His death has really affected him, his ptsd…"

"You let him go back!" Molly argued, as she cut him off. "You know he has ptsd, you know how worried I am about him and you know there's nothing I can say or do to help him, but you, you let him go back on another tour!" She said, before she broke down sobbing.

Beck looked at the kitchen counter, he couldn't look her in the eye. "He told me he went to therapy and that he was better. It turns out he only went once and the session lasted twenty minutes before he stormed out. He lied to me and to the medic carrying out his pre-tour evaluation" he argued.

"Why does that not surprise me!"

"He needs help Molly, before we lose him."

The tears had stopped now. "Don't you think I know that?" She snapped.

Beck leaned forward "Someone from two section contacted me, raising concerns about his behaviour, they stressed that they do not want to get him into trouble, but that there are concerns that his actions could make an already tense situation much worse."

"Who?" Molly asked, a look of concern crossing her face.

"I am not at liberty to say," Beck replied as Molly stood up again.

"The situation in Bangladesh is becoming more unstable by the day, the MOD want to send a relief team out there on standby. I'm sending three section out there tomorrow. I need a medic."

"Well I can't go, can I?" Molly shrugged.

"Their medic is on leave; his wife just had a baby."

"We are not supposed to serve together remember? Sir."

"Extenuating services Molly, and besides you won't be under his command. You will be under mine. You can be in the same country. Just not the same unit."

Molly didn't hesitate. She jumped at the chance to go. Knowing her husband might be in danger, despite their difficulties, she had no choice. If she could help him, she was certainly going to try.

Two days and several flights and delays later, Molly and Beck arrived in Bangladesh. A shit storm had erupted in trying find a kidnapped child and they both knew they had to hurry. Before leaving the UK Molly had tried calling him again, only for the phone to be answered with Charles muttering something about a chest of drawers, and that she could take whatever she wanted. It seemed pretty clear in his mind their marriage was over.

At this point Molly knew what was coming and it wasn't a chest of drawers being thrown in his direction. PTSD had taken a grip and for all she knew he could already be heading for a complete breakdown in the middle of a hostile situation. She feared she may never get him back.

When they finally got to the barracks where two section had been staying they discovered they'd already gone out on a mission. They were given rooms where they could shower and freshen up, which helped calm some of her nerves. She wasn't quite sure what she was going to say to him when she saw him. Once she felt a little fresher she made her way to the canteen to meet Beck. As she walked in she couldn't fail to hear the whispered voices of the gossiping staff talking about the British officer and the medic and the noises coming from the bedroom. Beck tried to convince her that it could have been anyone they were talking about, but she knew it was them. Charles had already told her that he had feelings for _her_. In his head he'd ended their marriage and was free to do whatever he wanted. Which apparently meant sleeping with her best friend and his best friends fiancée.

It was several hours later when word arrived that two section were missing. Apparently they'd never made it back to their rendezvous point. Beck announced that three section would be part of the rescue team, and Molly was told to double away and get into full kit ASAP. As they headed out to their last known location Molly's stomach was in knots, scared at what she'd find. It wasn't just her husband that was missing but some of her closest mates too. She prayed this fuck up wasn't as a result of Charles' PTSD. It took the best part of an hour to find them, and even longer to get to them, having discovered there Bergen's and weapons at the top of a cliff. On closer inspection they discovered that they'd all jumped off the cliff into the river below, assuming incorrectly as they'd later discover, that it was the only route out of a very hostile situation. They were all alive but with varying different injuries. All that is, except Charles, who was missing. Molly didn't care about the ins and outs, she just wanted to find him.

On the boat Georgie barely looked at her. The guilt was written all over her face. Fingers and Brains however had nearly crushed her to death with hugs before calling her a legend and promising her that the Boss would be fine. She wasn't so sure. Monk had told her that he saw the Boss being swept further down the river bank but that he couldn't do anything to help. The current was too strong, and no one could get to him. The guilt was eating at all of them. It was when she was checking Kingy over that he confessed he'd been the one concerned about the boss' state of mind and had emailed Beck asking for help and guidance on what to do. Funny, that the medic never picked that up, thought Molly, as she remembered her own concerns about Smurfs behaviour back in the field all those years ago. As a medic it's something they were trained to look out for. She had told Kingy how grateful she was for raising his concerns before helping them all off the boat.

After taking the rest of the section to the hospital to be checked over they'd refuelled and gone back out searching, just her, Beck and a volunteer steering the boat. It was dark, but Beck kept on. "we don't leave anyone behind," he said as he turned the torch to check the rocky coastline.

She kept calling his name, straining to hear any response over the sound of the boat, and the noises of the trees. Eventually they saw him lying on a sandy cove rambling and waving a gun in the air. Was her husband so far gone now that he was considering taking his own life? Beck had rushed ashore, wrenched the gun from his hands and carried him on to the boat. The journey back to shore watching him muttering in pain had broke her heart.

 **Bielefeld British Army Base Germany.**

He groaned as he opened his eyes, the brightness of the hospital room a stark contrast to the darkness he last remembered. He glanced around the room and saw her standing there, he blinked again, barely able to believe that she was actually there.

"Molly."

She was standing looking out of the window of Charles' hospital room, watching the world go by, when he had finally opened his eyes.

"Is that you?" he asked.

"Could be the morphine," Molly grinned as she turned to face him. Her hair was down and she was dressed casually in a red check shirt and dark jeans. She looked pale and gaunt with dark circles under her eyes "it usually sends you a bit loopy or you could be delirious again. It is becoming a bit of habit." The smile was gone now, as she sat down in the hard plastic chair beside his bed.

"The good news is you actually managed not to damage your legs this time. There is some swelling around your spine but the doctors are hopeful that with physio and time, you should make a full recovery." Molly finished.

"Molly…"

"Don't." Molly glared at him. "Do not Molly me, do not give me those soppy puppy dog eyes and expect me to forgive you. All of this could have been avoided."

He refrained from looking at her, the guilt was too much, but nodded his head in agreement. "And the team?"

"All back in blighty, some in hospital, some are in therapy. Frankly I don't give a shit." Well, that wasn't strictly true, she cared about some of them, but she knew they were all okay.

"I've fucked up," Charles whispered, as he tried to reach for her hand, only for Molly to pull it away.

"No shit sherlock. Where would you like me to begin? How about where you lied to both me and your boss about getting therapy? Or where you led your team to jump off a cliff, when there was another, perfectly safe route back to the barracks, that you could have found if you looked at the map in your pocket?"

Charles looked up at the last statement.

"But, then again, Georgie said that you couldn't go back so you did as you were told."

"I was in charge!"

"Were you?" Molly frowned "Beck told me all about that conversation you had where you begged him to send you to Bangladesh. You were already on a warning about some of your past decisions, you'll be bloody lucky to escape a court marshall this time. Oh, and let's not forget about shagging the team medic. Me, they can overlook as we weren't actually on tour when we shagged, and I wasn't under your command, oh and we got married, not sure about Georgie though."

"Molly…"

"Don't even think about lying to me... Next time you want to have an affair make sure the blinds are closed. You're the talk of barracks. Which is pleasant, arriving to find out your husband is the subject of everyone's gossip. Plus, Lane couldn't look me in the eye and when we found you, you were so delirious that you confessed pretty much everything."

"I am so sorry. It was once… and I regretted it immediately."

"But you wanted it, didn't you? Come on Charlie admit it," Molly lowered her voice remembering that the hospital staff were on the other side of the door.

Charles didn't answer, but averted his gaze to look out the window.

"You told me you had feelings for her." She said sadly.

"I don't know what I feel anymore. I don't know what the fuck is going on."

"I know exactly what's going on. I'm a fully trained CMT, with additional courses in dealing with PTSD. I know what to do to help, but with you…" Molly buried her head in her hands trying to keep the tears at bay. "I have been doing everything I can to help, refused tours and training courses to be there for you and all you do is push me away. How do you think I feel, your _wife_ feels, when you tell me that you love someone else?" Her voice broke at her last sentence and she couldn't hold the tears back anymore, finally letting them fall down her face, the emotion of the last few days and weeks spilling out of her, relieved that she'd finally been able to say what she'd been bottling up for the last few months.

"Don't cry please," Charles begged, as he tried desperately to reach for her hand.

"Why? Guilty conscience?" Molly asked, standing up in an attempt to keep a safe distance from him.

"Your tears break my heart, I never wanted this," Charles said as he raised his arm across his eyes to try and hide his own tears.

"Someone I trusted betrayed me."

"Capt Azzizi?" Molly questioned.

"I was off my game and should have noticed that Elvis was in danger, I should have warned him… but I didn't, I saw him fall, I saw Georgie trying to save him. I had to put him in a fucking body bag. She was... broken… In that moment I made a promise to protect her, for Elvis."

"And that led you to wanting to make love to her?" she said sarcastically. She didn't really want to know all the details, she knew it would be painful, but she knew they needed to have this conversation if there was going to be any hope for them.

"Everything got jumbled and confused and then she saved my life… and I don't know. I keep seeing you when I look at her and I can't tell... none of this makes sense…" he sighed.

"You think I'm Georgie?" Molly frowned.

"No." He shook his head.

"I don't understand."

"You are perfect Molly. I look at you and wonder what the fuck you are doing with a fuck up like me. Ever since you crawled across that battlefield in Afghan I have been in love with you. You've got a military cross, everyone loves you, christ my mother calls you the daughter she never had, and Sam, well he worships the ground you walk on."

"What so this is my fault?" She asked incredulously

"No, god no. Of course it's not." He paused for a second before continuing. "I...I can't explain, you save people and I kill them." He finished bluntly.

Molly looked up, the look of anguish on Charles' face nearly broke her. "I'm not perfect, I seem to remember getting several of your stern faced bollockings."

"You are perfect Molly and all I do is bring you down and make you cry. I ended our marriage to put you out of your misery. I love you so much that I hurt you and I can't live with that."

Molly shook her head. "I may hate you right now and I don't know if I can ever forgive you but I still love you. I still care about you. It takes two people to end a marriage, although that might be you and Georgie" she added for good measure, "rather than me and you. That's why I called you every day though, even when you wanted to end it. I rang to tell you that I was coming out to see you, to talk to you face to face and all I got was a ramble about a bloody chest of drawers – which I may still chuck at you when you return home.

You need help Charles, proper help. More than I can give you. If you get help, if you talk to someone and you still feel the same, and you still want us to end," Molly said quietly "Then I will respect your decision to separate, but not like this. Not whilst your head is all over the place."

"How can you still love me? After what I did?" He sobbed.

"You're not to blame. Maybe it's all my fault." Molly mused, as she leaned up against the window.

"No its not." Charles replied, shaking his vigorously.

"I was the one who had the miscarriage when you were in Nepal," Molly whispered, staring at the floor. "Fingers emailed me a few days later telling me how out of sorts you were, and no-one could understand why. I told you not to tell them cos I didn't want their pity. You locked your feelings away, it could have affected your judgement and led to Elvis' death. It could all be my fault." She said sadly. The realisation that maybe all this could have been avoided hit her like a ton of bricks.

Molly closed her eyes as she re-lived those few weeks. They had been nervous waiting for the results of the pregnancy test and when it was positive, the look on his face said it all. He wanted to tell the world, but they both agreed to wait until the twelve week scan. Then the earthquake happened in Nepal and he was called up to be deployed. He was gutted that he wouldn't be there for the scan. A few days later she had to make the heartbreaking skype call telling him that there was no heartbeat. Their baby had died. It was his mum who held her hand throughout.

"That was not your fault Molly."

"It's no more mine than it is yours."

"I should have been there, to help you and support you, but I was stuck in the middle of sodding nowhere. If I had been there…"

"There still would have been no heartbeat."

"I should have been there for you, to hold your hand and comfort you and protect you and wipe away your tears."

Molly walked over and sat back down on the chair. "Okay, you want to play the blame game then what about this. If Georgie hadn't sneaked off to be with Rome or Milan, or whatever the hell his name was, leaving those orphans alone in the orphanage by themselves, they wouldn't have been kidnapped by a child trafficker. You wouldn't have had to go to Kathmandu and meet up with Elvis and join special forces in Afghan. Have you thought about that?"

"What, I don't understand?" Charles asked. Was there a possibility that all of this was not his fault?

"Oh come on Charles even I heard about it. Squaddies are the biggest gossips on the planet. Especially ones who get a bollocking from their mentor who doesn't practice what they preach."

Charles was about to speak when he heard her phone beep. Molly ignored it knowing exactly who it was.

"That will be you mum texting to see how you are today. And Sam will send another after school finishes. It's not only our relationship that needs fixing. Do you remember the day when it all went to shit? When everything changed?

Charles closed his eyes, as the tears started. The shame of his actions was beginning to be too much to bear.

"We had a good weekend, well I thought we did, then we remembered that it would have been Elvis' birthday and it was like a switch had been flipped, you changed so quickly it scared me. Your parents had collected Sam for us…"

"Don't Molly please…"

"You need to realise what you've done otherwise what's the point. You dad told you to get help. A retired army general begging his only son to get help and you punched him, in your haste to get out of the house and to get to Georgie. You punched him in front of your son, to get to your bit on the side."

Molly was crying as she continued "You'd made me breakfast in bed, shagged me, told me I was your forever and then poof...You changed. Talk about Jekyll and Hyde. I could see the cloud form in your head and that's it, you were gone. A few hours later you were running out the door like the house was on fire. The next day you were packing to go to Bangladesh and, a few weeks later you want to put us out of our misery."

"We made love."

"Really! Out of everything I've just said that's what you picked up on!"

"We never fucked or shagged Molly, it was always love."

"If that's true then why Charles, why did you do it?" Molly cried.

He closed his eyes and let the tears fall. The silence between them was deafening. It was Molly who finally broke the silence. Charles had clammed up again. Apparently, the time for honesty and talking was now over.

"I'm tired of this. Tired of watching you fall apart and watching what you're doing to everyone who loves you. I can't fix you anymore." Molly said as she stood and placed her hand on either side of his face, remembering a time when he made the same gesture to her when Sohail was dying.

"What are you saying."

"Get help." Molly stated as she wiped away both of their tears. "Beck is outside, you have two options. You keep going the way you have, denying the help and support the army is providing you with and face a court martial and medical discharge. Keep running and you will lose everyone. Or the second option. Beck has pulled some strings and called in some favours to get you into a specialist rehabilitation centre. They can work on your back as well. You will have 24 hour support from them. When it's finished we will all be waiting for you."

"Molly, I don't know if I can…"

"That's it Charles. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing, and it's killing me to walk away from you but I can't do this anymore I need some time to myself as much as you do. I love you but I'm going away for a while, before my head becomes as fragged as yours."

Molly stood up and lifted her bag as she walked towards the door.

"Molly?"

She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"When I jumped off that cliff I wanted to die," Charles said, "And you were the last person I saw."

 **So, what do you think? Please leave a comment!**

 **This is, at the moment, only a one-shot. A little piece of therapy perhaps for fellow CJ/Molly fans? I would like to continue it into something bigger, but I am really struggling to see how Molly could ever forgive that type of betrayal. PTSD or not.**

 **All I know is the Captain James that I fell in love in the first series is definitely not the same one who did what he did last week. For me the PTSD started long before the betrayal and Elvis' death, he was acting out of character since the start of the third series.**

 **Thank you for reading and please leave a review!**


	2. Author Note

Hi everyone

Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews, they are greatly appreciated!

I just wanted to let you all know that I will be continuing the story and I hope to have the first chapter up in the next few weeks. The story will be called "Come Back to Me"

Thanks again


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